A Reflection on Mary

In our Education for Ministry seminar, we do an exercise of reflecting on Mary right before we take a break for the holidays.   Below is what finally came to me after a week of wrestling with this exercise... and sitting in a contemplative place before the start of our Advent Lessons and Carols.



Mary,

Without you, where would the story be?
A young girl, visited by an angel,
who announces you will bear the Son of God,
Emmanuel
God with us.
Enormous responsibility for anyone,
especially a teenaged girl.

You pondered these things in your heart.
What questions did you have?

We hear you asked,
“How can this be for I am a virgin?”

Mary,

Ave Maria…
Oy vey, Maria!
How the question of your Virgin Birth has vexed the scholars,
tested the theologians, and raised more questions.
Were you a virgin, or just a maiden? 
Does that matter?
The church has examined, debated, and lifted you up to heights hardly human.
You have been the comfort to many,
speaking words of wisdom
to those who would listen.
You have been the unattainable, unrealistic version of female,
the “forever a mother” standard.
Is it any wonder that when they see you now,
you are always in tears?

Mary,

in your own moment of truth,
you recited your ancestor Hannah’s prayer.
Praising God for raising the lowly
and scattering the proud.
Again, God had shown
a memory that stretches backward and forward
covering centuries
never forgetting God’s people
and calling on the least to do great things.


Mary,

without you, the story is not our story.
God came to be with us.
God came to us.
Through you, with you, and by you
we have a Savior born in our likeness
leading us to the one
who made us in the likeness of God.
Our circle completed with your consent.


Mary,

Sancta Maria, Theotokos.
Blessed be your place in this incredible story.

R.I.P Edna and Prayers Requested

If I only could hit the "reset" button.

Earlier this week, I learned of the tragic death of the son of a couple I have come to know and love from my church.  And no sooner had I learned of the funeral arrangements for Ren came the news that my best friend's mother was not doing well post-surgery.

This morning, she died in the hospital in Texas. 

Edna Galloway was a feisty Southern woman who loved to talk about politics and culture and serial killers.  She had a beautiful grin and almost looked like she and Eartha Kitt were separated at birth twins.  I enjoyed the times when I visited the Galloway's Ramshackle Ranch and sat at the bar in the kitchen drinking the coffee Edna had brewed (which her daughter Terry kept insisting she could give me something better!)  and listening to her stories, and what was on her mind... which inevitably would come 'round to why Texas was going to hell in a handbasket with Republican leadership.   She was a lot of fun, and she loved those who loved her daughters.  Paul, her husband who used to tease me with his love for the unloveable Dallas Cowboys, passed away a few years ago.  With the matriarch also gone, there will be a whole lotta space to fill at Ramshackle Ranch. 

My friend Terry is an atheist.  But I believe God loves those who do and do not believe.  And I am hoping that Edna has found her way to whatever is the next adventure after this realm.  Please pray for the Galloway family and their loved ones, as well as my church friends, the Starlings, and the loss of their son, Ren.

And can we please press the reset button.

Comfort, O Comfort My People...Four Years and Running

I remember when I became a Eucharistic Minister at St. John's, I was assigned to be the lector reading the lesson from Isaiah.  

Comfort, O comfort my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and cry to her
that she has served her term,
that her penalty is paid,
that she has received from the LORD's hand
double for all her sins...

In many respects, as I reflect on the fourth anniversary of this blog, I am reflecting on the initial mission of this space.  I started it with the intention of sharing my journey and expressing my faith as a queer Christian.  My aim was to demystify gay people and press forward with the idea that a segment of the population often excluded by religious communities is often some of the most faithful clamoring to be allowed inside the gate. 

Every valley shall be lifted up,
and every mountain and hill be made low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed,
and all people shall see it together,
for the mouth of the LORD has spoken."

Since I started writing this blog, I have seen major shifts happening in the church and the world.  Indeed I keep sensing that valleys are being lifted up, hills made low.   Not everywhere.  Not in Florida necessarily.  But as the uneven ground continues to be made level, I see the glory of the Lord being revealed in the consecration of Mary Glasspool, and the decisions of dioceses in the state of New York to comply with same-sex marriage laws and allow for the blessings on couples who have waited decades in some cases to have their relationships made legitimate in the eyes of the state. 

Get you up to a high mountain,
O Zion, herald of good tidings;
lift up your voice with strength,
O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings,
lift it up, do not fear;
say to the cities of Judah,
"Here is your God!"

Yes, here is your God.  The one who comes on a cleared path, on a cloud descending, and with the intention of setting us all free.  Of course, Isaiah didn't know and wouldn't have known to speak of Jesus, and it does a disservice to the prophet to impose Christian teaching on his words.  But Jesus was the human embodiment of God's constant mission to free us and lead us into love if we would be willing to follow.  Queers who follow are doing so because there is incredible liberation in the love of God.  And the mantra, "Do not fear" is one that resonates strongly for LGBT Christians.  Do not let those who would try to plant a seed of doubt about your free entry into the kingdom get the best of you.  Not only do belong; you were never rejected by God.  Ever.

He will feed his flock like a shepherd;
he will gather the lambs in his arms,
and carry them in his bosom,
and gently lead the mother sheep.
 
As I keep journeying along with you, I hope that those who land on this page will experience through my writing the joy and the freedom that comes from opening up to the Divine.  I hope any negative statements or attempts to lead you away from God can be countered with the real message that you are already part of the kingdom.   Peace be with you.

Touchy Topic: Atheist and Black

I'm neither black nor am I an atheist. 

But I was very interested in the article in the New York Times from last weekend that talked about a minority-within-a-minority: African-Americans who do not profess a faith in God. 

Often times in this country, there is an almost inseparable link between the church and the local black community.  When I was working as a Technical Assistant Clerk in a predominantly African-American voting precinct, my fellow pollworkers would introduce themselves by giving their name, and any possible relations the other person might know... and then what church they attend.  I was only included in that ritual when they saw my Education for Ministry textbook that I had brought along for when I would have down time.   They'd look at it, be puzzled by it being in my possession, and then ask me, "What's your church?"   I'd tell them, and my affliliation would make me a little more real for them. Christ the ice breaker at a Leon County polling place!

One of the striking comments in the article was from the young man who came out as gay to his mother and when she tried to use the Bible to explain her problems with homosexuality, he told her he didn't care because he didn't believe in that stuff anymore.   For the mom, hearing that was more disturbing than hearing that her son is gay!

At long last... there is SOMETHING that is worse in the minds of some than homosexuality!

What struck me in that story was that the man didn't believe "in that stuff anymore" and that he is gay.  This is, sadly, all too common.  For some reason, believing in "that stuff" is seen as antithetical to being gay.  And the church has aided and abetted in pushing this as the inevitable conclusion for all LGBT people.  Those of us who refuse to accept this formula for separation from our creator, redeemer and sustainer then face other subtle forms of discrimination within the church. We are welcome to be in the pews, but the pulpit remains a thorny issue in some parts.  Announcements and thanksgiving for the rites of passage for heterosexual couples are celebrated openly while the milestones in the life of an LGBT couple remain unacknowledged or hidden.  

Such slights drive some to leave the church.  And sometimes those slights lead to the mistaken idea that God is the church.  And if the church is going to treat me as a second-class citizen, then God must think the same thing.  So, see ya, God!

My favorite theologian, Robert Capon, made the best statement to counter this misbelief:

"The truth that makes us free is always ticking away like a time bomb in the basement of everybody's church.  And that truth isn't a bunch of ideas.  It's Jesus.  Sooner or later, if we just sit still and listen, he'll blow the lid off of any prison we've built."

For those of us who are queer Christians, we are in the pews and we are being called to the pulpit because we have known the freeing power of being busted out of the jail of homophobia and the sin of exclusion.  God isn't the figment of our imagination; God is real and is empowering us not to become mere joiners of the institution, but to square up to the institution and call it back to God's ultimate mission: love, unbounded and never-ending.  I believe this is why there are a growing number of LGBT people who are coming out as people of faith.   At least in the white community.

Maybe the trend to toward humanism and atheism in the black community is a way to point out the error of the ways of the black church.  That the rampant homphobia that exists in black churches is sending the children packing... and turning their backs on God.  Perhaps atheism may be the way to shake up the theists in the African-American communities to repent and return to a message that Christ did indeed die for everyone.

Maybe God is working a purpose out....

A Reflection on World AIDS Day

My apologies to those of you who have made a habit of visiting this blog.  I've been so busy lately that I have very little time to think, let alone write anything.   But this morning, as I listened to the first portion of Psalm 18, I heard words that seemed appropriate for World AIDS Day:

The breakers of death rolled over me,     and the torrents of oblivion made me afraid. The cords of hell entangled me, and the snares of death were set for me. I called upon the Lord in my distress, and cried out to my God for help. He heard my voice from his heavenly dwelling; my cry of anguish came to his ears.
I found my mind recalling various faces of friends and acquaintances who have died of complications from HIV infection; of seeing the AIDS quilt, both laid out in near-fullness on the Mall in Washington, DC, in 1993... and a few panels at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church in Gainesville.  I thought about the shame heaped on those living with HIV, and how so many especially 30 years ago... would lose the love of their families as they lay dying in hospitals.  And I thought how these words sounded very much like the kind of prayer the persecuted patient might have been praying. Scientists have made huge breakthroughs in the 30 years with the antiretroviral drugs, but there are still almost 40-thousand new cases of HIV infection every year.  And there are those who cast all caution to the wind and intentionally go out to get infected, a phenomenon I simply don't understand. As I remember those who have died, I continue to pray that we will continue funding the research to work us toward eradicating HIV/AIDS here and abroad.

Entering Advent

I've been thinking about the words from the 1 Peter reading that closed out  yesterday morning's Year A  lectionary:

The end of all things is near; therefore be serious and discipline yourselves for the sake of your prayers. Above all, maintain constant love for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining.  Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.

I find as I enter Advent, these words are probably just as good as anything.  It feels like the send off a parent might give to a child as they slip them a twenty dollar bill as the kid goes off to college.  And, in a way, that is what Advent is like.  We are being sent off into a new year and new experiences that come with the cycle of waiting expectantly for Christ's entry into our world.

I say "our world" because that's what happens in this ritual of remembrance.   The literalist will be looking for the "acutal, flesh and blood" return of the Messiah to fulfill the promise we recite at the Eucharist: "Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again."   But I don't think in "literal" terms when I consider the idea of the Messiah's return.  Christ, for me, returns every year, like clockwork, at the end of Advent with Christmas Eve and the singing of "Joy to the World".  And the question for me always at that moment is, "Am I ready for this?"   It's all fine and good when we are in awe of this baby, whose majestic birth happens in a manger with animals and shepherds.  But that is just the beginning.  The baby grows up, and presents challenges to the status quo.  If we agree to journey with Christ in this annual maturation, we might find ourselves challenged to see things differently and poked and prodded out of our comfort zones.  And, with this being the "Mark Year," we're climbing on-board with the Christ who is the Doc Marten wearing no nonsense Messiah.  He doesn't have time for games; Mark's version is the Christ of action. Now.

Time to get serious, be disciplined, and stay constant in love.  Then, perhaps we'll be ready for the topsy-turvy ride with the newborn babe. 
 

Bittersweet Ending of a Tradition

Tomorrow at Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City, two midwestern football rivals will take to the field in a game that has come to be known as the Border War.

The University of Missouri-Columbia Tigers vs. the University of kansas Jayhawks... also known as the "Ugly Birds".   Yes, as an alumna of Mizzou, I have an opinion about our opponent.  This game has been played every year since 1891... and its roots go back to the national upheaval during the Civil War.   Kansas was a free state.  Missouri was a slave state.  The "Jayhawkers", a band of hooligans from Kansas, would make periodic raids into western Missouri, burning towns and making mayhem.   Missouri responded by sending William Quantrill and his raucous Bushwhackers into Lawrence (home of kU), burning it to a crisp.

Today, fires and raids have given way to helmets, shoulder pads, and brutal tackling.   As these gridiron gladiators go at it on the field, fans from both sides will be screaming themselves to hoarseness as the bands play on with the fight songs to encourage their teams.

Sadly, tomorrow will likely be the last time Missouri will play its arch rival in this classic showdown.  My Alma Mater, for reasons of money, has decided to leave the Big 12 Conference and will begin playing in the SEC next season.  They'd been trying to join the Big 10, another Midwestern-based conference.  But Michigan, Ohio State, Northwestern, Wisconsin.... they all refused to acknowledge the request.  Or simply chose to look the other way.   Meanwhile, the SEC was happy to include an institution with one of the premiere Journalism Schools in the nation... as well as a football team that could join Vanderbilt in the "homecoming guest" department.   And so, beginning next year, Missouri will have a Border War with.... umm.... with....

Arkansas?

That doesn't work for me.

In fact, most of this whole realignment business of the collegiate athletic conferences doesn't work for me.  The Big 10 has twelve teams; The Big 12 this year had 10 teams.  The PAC 12 (used to be PAC 10) includes former Big 12 school Colorado... a school that might be on the Pacific Coast in the event of global warming!   Florida State has been in the Atlantic Coast Conference... even though it sits closer to the Gulf of Mexico.    The whole thing is a stinking mess, and it is all about money, and television revenues.  Not for the players, of course.  They're chattel in this high stakes world of college sports. The universities make a mint off of them.  And as legislatures continue to hack away at higher education, the need for revenue from the athletic programs becomes greater.  What should be just a game is now all about the ca-ching of cash flow.

Lost in all of this are the rivalries such as Missouri vs. kansas.  When kU heard that Missouri was going to bolt from the Big 12, the Ugly Bird school threw down the gauntlet:  leave, and this rivalry match-up is over!   Mizzou's response: we never liked you very much any way.  So, see ya later and we'll play the Gators.

As an alumna, I am disappointed.  The bitterness between the two schools and the two states has actually been fun.  All Mizzou alums get a kick out of refusing to capitalize the "k" because we know that kansas is "Neither a proper noun nor a proper state!"    In turn, the more Union-friendly fervor of kansans burns hot every time they proclaim that they've been "protecting America from Missouri since 1854!"  And when I was a student in the late 80s, both schools had the same football cheer: "Oh, yeah?! Wait 'til basketball season!!"

I hope that both schools will come to their senses and realize that we are really talking about a game, and that these conferences have become so meaningless in their geographical alignment that to sacrifice a tradition that dates back to 1891 and draws the attention of alums and curious on-lookers alike is just plain stupid.  Surely, one of the SEC foes will forgo a game against the Missouri Tigers to allow them to play the Ugly Birds.   For those of us who went to these schools, the game against the rival might be the only one that could get us excited about the sport in question.  I mean, no one at Mizzou ever gave up her tickets to football or basketball games against kU. 

Guess that won't be an issue any more.